


more intact

by Lake (beyond_belief)



Category: Iron Fist (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-04-24 04:57:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19166281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_belief/pseuds/Lake
Summary: Danny's a little worse for wear. Ward patches him up.





	more intact

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sholio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/gifts).



"Well, that's a good one," Ward says, when Danny gets back to the room they're renting and removes the hand cupped over his eye to reveal the jagged cut crossing his eyebrow, and the blood smeared down his cheek. "Thought you were only going out for information."

Danny at least looks somewhat sheepish. "I was. Then a gang of thieves went after my wallet."

"A gang of them, huh. Sit down and I'll get the Band-Aids." Ward sets his book on the bed, stands up.

There's a small first aid kit on the sink in what passes for a bathroom. He wets a cloth under the thin stream of cold water that never gets any bigger or warmer no matter how many revolutions they spin the taps. "I know you think these cheap rooms are inconspicuous, but there's got to be one with decent plumbing," he says, bringing the first aid kit and the washcloth with him. 

"It's better than just a bucket." Danny's sitting on the edge of the bed, so Ward pulls the lone wooden chair up in front of him. 

"A bucket," he replies, shaking his head. He folds the wet cloth over a few times, then presses it to the seeping cut, and holds it there. 

"I can hold it," Danny says. Ward gives him the _don't be an idiot_ look, and Danny closes his eyes with a small sigh. "One of them was wearing a ring and I didn't move fast enough, I guess."

Ward says dryly, "Happens to the best of us." He looks over the rest of Danny's face, and doesn't see any other blood, then looks down at Danny's hands resting on his knees. A few of his knuckles are scraped. "Thought those monks taught you how to throw a punch without fucking up your hands."

"Happens to the best of us," Danny replies. 

Despite the late hour, the room is still warm, and Ward's aware of the sweat prickling the back of his neck. Danny hardly looks like he's noticed the heat. "If we can't have better plumbing, how about a room with windows that open further, so I can get a breeze while you're out getting your face done up by pickpockets," he says, mostly to fill the silence while they wait for the cut to stop it's sluggish bleeding. 

"Sorry." Danny doesn't sound sorry. "I could try to shoulder it open some more."

"Be my guest. Once I get you cleaned up."

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this," Danny murmurs. 

He does sound apologetic this time, but Ward still pushes on his face just a little harder in response and says, "Hey, you jerk, I chose to come with. You didn't drag me anywhere, okay?"

"Okay." Danny's hands flex a little on his knees.

Ward peels the washcloth up enough to look at the wound. The bleeding seems to have stopped, or at least enough that he can get it closed up with a few of the little butterfly stickers, and maybe tape some gauze over it. "They just had to catch you right in that thin skin there, huh?"

"Better than my eye."

"True," Ward breathes. He opens the first aid kit, then peels the backing off the first bandage. "Here goes."

Danny holds perfectly still. Ward would wonder if he's even breathing, except he can see the slightest lift and fall of Danny's collarbones above the neck of his loose t-shirt. Carefully, he positions one of the bandages beneath Danny's eyebrow, then one above, then one above that. "I can't tape the bottom edge, but I think we can at least get some gauze over it, in case it bleeds some more. And I'm sure you're going to wind up with a nice black eye."

"You're doing what you can," Danny whispers. 

Not for the first time, Ward wants to say, _How can you trust me, after I was such an asshole to you?_. Instead, he says, "I hope you left them in worse shape than they left you."

"They weren't worth using the Fist." Danny cracks open his non-bandaged eye. "But they'll be in some pain."

Ward chuckles as he cuts tape. "All right, bandage to the face now."

Danny holds still again. Ward fits a small square of gauze over the cut and smoothes tape over three sides. Then he pats Danny's cheek. "That part's done. Does it hurt?"

"Throbs a little, but." Danny shrugs. 

Ward knows he's been hurt so much worse, a ripped-open eyebrow is basically a scratch. He re-folds the cloth to a clean side and lifts each of Danny's hands in turn, wipes the blood slowly and carefully. "You know I could do that myself," Danny says, voice quiet.

"Well, I'm doing it for now."

There's blood dried at all the edges of Danny's nails, and under them. Finger by finger, Ward methodically scrubs it off, then gently goes over the scrapes on his knuckles. "Can't have it getting infected," he murmurs, more to himself than Danny now, and sets aside the now completely bloodstained washcloth to pick up the tube of antibacterial cream. 

Danny doesn't say anything as Ward applies a thin layer of cream to each of the battered knuckles, and to the excessively ragged cuticles of his thumbs. When he's done, he closes up the tube, then zips up the kit. 

"You're just going to punch some more people tomorrow, aren't you?" he asks, looking up at Danny's face to see the smile that's pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

"It generally comes to that."

"Surely there are more ways to get information than violence." He knows that most of the people Danny's dealing with won't respond to anything else, but he feels like he should say it, just to give Danny something to reply to.

"You could probably talk some of them into giving up what they know, but my way is usually faster." Danny flexes his fingers a few times. His smile broadens, and he squeezes Ward's shoulder. "Thanks."

"Yeah, well, someone's got to," Ward answers, getting up so he can put the supplies away. "I'd tell you to put some ice on it, but we don't have any."

"Could get some down at that bar," Danny suggests. "You know you sleep better in the heat after a couple beers."

"That shit barely counts as beer, and then you try to spoon me."

"I do not."

"You do. It's too hot for that." He nudges the water on again to wash Danny's blood from his hands. There's only a sliver of soap left, they'll have to buy some. "Try to open the window further, would you?"

**Author's Note:**

> Happy NPT, Sholio! I was delighted to get to write for you in this exchange and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
